


A Bitter Sting

by Annika_H



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Blackmail, FP Jones II tries, Gangs, Gen, Hurt Jughead Jones, Jughead Jones Needs a Hug, Kidnapping, Mystery, POV Betty Cooper, POV Jughead Jones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2019-05-03 06:52:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14563416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annika_H/pseuds/Annika_H
Summary: Picks up at the end of the season one finale. When Jughead storms out after arguing with Betty about the jacket, a group of unknown men jump him. Jason's murder may be solved, but trouble has just begun for Jughead now that he's been kidnapped. What do his captors want, and how are the Blossoms involved?





	1. Jughead

**Author's Note:**

> The awesome fandomwishes from Fanfiction.net beta’d the first chapter!
> 
> This story contains SPOILERS for all of Season 1 of Riverdale. I do not own Riverdale or any of the characters from the Archie comics or the TV show.
> 
> I am always open to hearing my reader's suggestions for where they would like the story to go! :)
> 
> This picks up when Betty and Jughead’s shenanigans were interrupted in FP’s trailer. Hope you enjoy!

Betty’s soft whisper pulls me from my thoughts, my hand feeling the rough leather of my father’s old jacket. I look over to her, expecting to see…I don’t know. A look of relief, maybe, that the Serpents have officially offered me their protection? My heart has not recovered its regular pace after our make-out session against the kitchen counter. Perhaps I’m hoping to see a hint of the darker side of my girlfriend, possibly excited by the prospect of dating a Southside Serpent.

Instead I see a glint of fear in her eyes, her brows furrowed in uncertainty. My stomach sinks as I take in her posture. She’s trying to make herself smaller, shoulders hunched and arms wrapped around her. Her wide eyes are locked on mine, searching for answers that I’m not sure I have.

I blink a couple times before turning back to the group of Serpents at my doorstep. “Thank you,” I tell them, my voice warm with sincerity. “I’ll make sure to take good care of it until my dad gets out.”

“If you ever need anything, you know where to find us, kid,” one of the Serpents replies, before they turn away with brief nods of farewell.

I nod back before silently re-entering the trailer, closing the door behind me. I take a deep breath and then look up. Betty’s eyes are fixed on the floor, forehead wrinkled.

“Betty, look at me,” I plead after a moment of stillness.

“Are you going to keep it?” She asks timidly, meeting my gaze at last. “Wear it around town – to school?”

“I- I don’t know,” I reply, trying to find the correct answer. “I guess so. I haven’t really had much time to think it over, considering I just got it.” Betty doesn’t say anything in response, instead glancing at the counter where we were just minutes ago. “I can’t read your mind, you know,” I prompt her. I try to say it gently, but I worry that it came out more exasperated than anything else. 

“I don’t like seeing it on you,” She admits bluntly, looking me straight in the eye. “It’s not right, Juggy.”

“Why?” I tilt my head forward, confused by her answer. “It’s just a jacket –“

“- That’s not how everyone else will see it!” She insists, taking a step closer. “I don’t want you to be a target.”

“The Serpents just told me that they’ll be watching over me so long as my dad is gone. Besides, everyone already knows who I am, and frankly I’m sick of hiding it. I have nothing to hide. My dad is _innocent_ , and Clifford Blossom can’t hurt anybody from the grave.” My voice rises steadily to a shout and I clench my fist around the leather jacket.

“But Mayor McCoy wants all of the Serpents out of the picture, Jug, which means that if you wear that jacket around, _you_ become a target!”

I can’t help but scoff at that. “And what more can Mayor McCoy to do me, Betty? I’m already switching schools and living with some foster family that’s going to try to fix the new ‘troubled teenager’ in the house.”

“I just…It gives me a bad feeling, Jug,” Betty whispers apprehensively. I take a long moment before replying.

“You’re not worried about me being a target,” I reply slowly, carefully calculating her reactions as I speak. “You’re afraid I’m going to change, aren’t you?” She shakes her head, but I see through the denial. “No, you are. You think that if I wear the jacket I’ll be like my dad, right? What’s so bad about that, huh? My father is a great man, he took the blame for _murder_ just to protect me, and he stood up for his friends even though it would have been easier for him to rat them out. Most people wouldn’t do that, Betty! So what’s so bad about me becoming like my dad?” 

I didn’t even realize that I was taking small steps forward until Betty is pressed against the fridge, having gradually backed away as I advanced.

“FP is a great guy, Jughead, but he’s been involved in a lot of really bad things,” Betty answers carefully. “I don’t want that life for you.”

“So…what?” I really am getting exasperated now, frustrated that Betty doesn’t understand. “You think I’m going to become a drunk? Start gambling, getting into fights, robbing banks?” I place my hands on either side of her head, closing her in. “Are you afraid I’m going to start killing people?” I whisper, leaning forward slightly.

“Goodness –“ She flusters, eyes wide. “Of course not, Juggy! I know you wouldn’t –“

“Okay, so maybe I am a ‘troubled kid’, but I thought _you_ of all people would have a little more faith in me,” I snap, turning to leave.

“Juggy, wait, where are you going?” Betty protests, but I’m already out the door. I just need some air, just a moment to process things without all the noise. I need to decide all of this for myself, not with somebody else breathing down my neck. The adults of Riverdale have already seen fit to make all the decisions for me: new school, new home, dad in prison. I don’t need somebody else telling me what to do.

I love Betty, but she doesn’t know what it’s like to have my background. Her mom may be a basket case, but dad is a criminal. The fact that she seriously thinks I’d change who I am by wearing a jacket hurts more than anything else.

I stop my angry trek to lean against a shadowed tree, just barely in the light from a sad street lamp. I let my head fall back on the rough bark, crossing my arms over my chest to keep warm in the brisk winter air. 

I think back to the argument Betty and I had after the surprise party. I had yelled at her then, too, furious that the one person I thought knew me best was the one who knew me the least. I doubted her again when I found out that having dinner with her mom was just a trick so Archie and Veronica could search the trailer. Betty had told me she didn’t know and the part of me that is used to being let down just couldn’t believe her.

I was so afraid of losing her. I still am, everyday. I keep expecting her to find out another piece of my past, pick apart my messed up brain, and leave for good. And I wouldn’t be able to blame her. After all, she’s the perfect one, even if she hates that word. She’s never been anything less in my mind. And I’m broken and dark and _weird_.

I stare at the trailer, the dull kitchen light shining through the tiny window. I walked out on her, even though I told myself I never would again. It’s amazing how fast I fell for her, but just like that I was wrapped around her finger. Maybe I’ve always seen that side of hidden brokenness in her, and latched onto it. Either way, I know I need to go back in and apologize. We’ll figure this out like we always do; I’m not going to let one jacket mess up our relationship.

A twig snaps from nearby, and I whip my head around to look into the shadows. “Betty?” I call uncertainly. When there is no response, the instinct to run kicks in, and I turn to race back to the trailer. Strong hands come out of nowhere and wrap around my waist, pulling me back against a broad chest and lifting my legs off the ground.

“Get off me!” I shout, twisting and pulling away from the man holding me. He grunts with the effort of keeping me still, and I manage a harsh kick to his knee. The moment he drops me, I’m staggering to my feet and running back to the trailer. I need to get Betty into my truck and safely out of here. We’ll call the police on the way into town and – 

A gunshot stops me dead in my tracks, skidding to a halt in the loose, gravely pavement. It was aimed at a spot a little ahead of me, clearly as a warning shot. The threat reverberates in my ears, my eyes flicking around in search of something to defend myself with. 

“You best put your hands behind your head and cooperate, unless you want a permanent limp!” A rough voice bellows from the dark. I can’t see the man through the shadows, but I have a bad feeling that he isn’t alone. I risk a glance to the trailer, afraid of Betty coming out to investigate. I can only hope that she’s heard the commotion and has decided to call Kevin’s dad rather than come out herself. She has a habit of running right into the situation, which I normally find endearing, but now the thought terrifies me.

“I don’t want any trouble,” I reply as calmly as possible, slowly moving my hands to rest behind my head. My heart is racing in my chest and my palms are sweaty against my hair. I absently realize that my hat is still where I threw it on the couch. The knowledge makes me feel even more vulnerable, as if being held at gunpoint wasn’t bad enough.

“Anybody who wears a Southside Serpent jacket is looking for trouble,” the voice responds mockingly. “Besides, _Jughead Jones the third_ , you are a high commodity right now.” 

“Wow,” I reply hollowly, ever so slowly taking a tiny step backwards. If I can get closer to the trailer without anyone noticing, I may be able to make a run for it. “That’s an awfully big word for a simple thug.” Another shift of my foot… “Or did you actually get a college degree before you dedicated your life to teenage kidnappings?” Another gunshot rings through the eerily silent night, this time much closer to me. I jump away, taking in a shaky breath. Apparently I wasn’t so sneaky, after all.

A tall man approaches out of the shadows, a ski mask covering his face. His gun is pointed at my face as he approaches, and I know better than to try to outrun a bullet. I force myself to stay still, hands held up in surrender. Maybe I can get the gun from him when he gets closer…

I stare at him silently, plans flickering through my mind. But the man never lowers the gun, and once he’s within reach, he shoves the barrel against my head, pushing me towards his buddies in the shadows. “Move,” I’m ordered simply. I hesitate for a moment too long, and the man uses his free hand to wrap around the back of my neck. My shoulders tense instinctively, and I try to pull away.

Instead I’m shoved forward; gun still leveled against my skull and neck burning under his death grip. I comply, breath coming out in wisps in front of me due to the chilly air. The moment I cross the line where the light ends, the gun is removed and a bag is jammed over my head. I instantly punch the air around me, blindly making contact with one of my attackers. All oxygen is forced from my lungs as a fist rams into my unprotected stomach. I stagger, hunched over from the impact. Two sets of hands wrap securely around my arms, forcing me into submission. 

I still try to pull free, even as my dad’s jacket is wrenched off of me and a pair of handcuffs is locked too tightly around my wrists. My arms are trapped behind my back by the metal, already digging painfully into my skin. I shiver against the cold wind as I’m dragged forward blindly, my sweater offering little comfort. I desperately want to scream for help, but if Betty runs out and gets shot…I would never forgive myself. I struggle as much as possible, which isn’t much, but I keep quiet.

I hear a car door open, and then I’m tossed in, colliding with the backseat before tumbling onto the floor. People enter in after me, and I’m jostled around as they settle themselves, kicking my body out of their leg space. I’m face down on the car mats - not that I would be able to see through the scratchy bag anyway.

Even though I know I stand no chance, I kick at my attackers, twisting in an attempt to get up. The handcuffs pull against my wrists, rubbing into the sensitive skin. Growls of angry protest begin in the car, and harsh boots collide with my body. I grunt into the sack covering my head, trying to scoot away and protect myself. _Stupid, stupid..._

“Relax!” An irritated man’s voice snaps, the others stilling their violent movements. I pull away when a hand wraps around my face, but the man holds me still. After a brief moment of feeling around, he presses down against my mouth and nose. The bag has already let in very little air, so any oxygen I once had is effectively trapped.

I fight to throw his hand off, but his grip is strong and my body has already switched into panic-mode. My head is buzzing, and I can barely support myself. My father’s gruff voice enters my head, telling me to pull myself together. I’m a Jones, and we don’t sit aside and let anyone beat us down. But I can’t breathe -

“I’ve got to admit, kid,” the man chuckles, lifting his hand. I greedily suck in as much air as possible, which just sends me into a coughing fit. “You’ve got some fight in you.” I want to give a snarky remark, or threaten him, or something - anything. But my throat is burning and my chest heaving. Without warning the hand returns, and I choke on my coughs, thrashing in an attempt to breathe again. “You’d make a good addition to the Scorpions. Too bad you won’t be around for that long.”

The car rumbles to life, and we begin our journey to who knows where. My hazy mind knows that I’ve just been given important information, but I’m having immense trouble processing coherent thoughts. I can only pray that Betty is safe and help is on the way. Before I can send that plea to anyone who might be listening upstairs, my body finally shuts down and all thought dissipates.


	2. Jughead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story contains SPOILERS for all of Season 1 of Riverdale. I do not own Riverdale or any of the characters from the Archie comics or the TV show.
> 
> As always I would love to hear your suggestions for where you would like the story to go!

We finally come to a stop after what must have been at least a two-hour’s drive. While I was awake, that is. I have no clue how long I was out before I woke up in a panic. The sack made it difficult to breathe and impossible to see. At first I couldn’t remember what had happened, but it all quickly came back when my futile escape attempt was thwarted by a harsh kick to the groin. That took all the fight out of me, although the chuckles of the men in the backseat made my blood boil. 

I hear the car doors open, and heavy boots step out onto gravel. I keep still, straining my ears to pick up any new information that could help me get out of here.

Hands grab me by the arms and yank me up and out of the car. My wrists scream against the metal digging into them with the new pressure, and my head collides with the door frame before my feet are finally grounded again.

“Get him inside!” A loud voice demands. The men on either side force me forward, and we fall into a hurried pace. I hear a door open, and then I’m led into an unknown building. I want to ask questions, but don’t test my captors’ temper. There will be time for that later. Hopefully.

“Hey,” one of the men jostles my arm, getting my attention as if I wasn’t already listening intently. “There are stairs here. Cooperate or we’ll push you down.”

I nod in understanding, and step forward carefully until my foot finds where each stair ends. It’s intimidating to go blindly down the cement, knowing you won’t be able to catch yourself and the people guiding you don’t really care. 

Finally we reach the bottom, and I allow myself to breathe properly again - or as well as I can under the bag. I’m dragged through hallways, trying to keep track of each turn. Left, left, right, left, right...Suddenly the fierce grips on my arms are gone, and I’m shoved forward. I can’t stop it or cushion my fall, so my side collides painfully with the cold floor. My whole body is jolted violently, and I let out a loud groan as I roll onto my back.

Someone wrenches the bag off of my head, leaving me to blink under the dim fluorescent lights. Cool air sweeps against my sweaty scalp, and I take in my surroundings. Four men tower above me, blocking the entrance to the little room. I quickly analyze the situation, taking note of the guns tucked into belts and knife handles peeking out of boots. Not to mention the fact that any of these men could snap my neck like it was nothing. 

My heart pounds in my chest, palms clammy behind my back. I hate feeling so small, but I’m afraid to move and go against some unspoken command. Glancing around, I realize I’m in what seems to be a storage closet, most likely in the basement of whatever building I’m in. The room is empty except for a plastic chair shoved in the corner. I slowly prop myself up into a kneeling position, making myself feel a bit less vulnerable. The men eye me carefully, but stay where they are. It’s as if they are waiting for something, but I want answers _now_. 

“Who are you?” I demand, glaring at my captors. “Why am I here?” 

“We’re the Scorpions,” a new man pushes past the group by the door, walking right up to me. Two of the men come around us, effectively surrounding me and making everything more claustrophobic. “Name is Venom. You’ll be answering to me.”

“Yeah, not likely,” I snap back, anger swelling in my chest. I rise to my feet, just a bit awkwardly without the use of my hands. Even though Venom is still a few inches taller, standing makes me feel more powerful and in control of the situation. I’m pissed, and terrified, and I’m not going to bow down to these people.

The backhand takes me by surprise, the force behind it sending me stumbling into one of the guys behind me. I let out a little cry of pain, unable to bite it back in time. The man I ran into pushes me back toward Venom, who is glaring daggers. He grabs a fistful of my sweater, yanking me forward and invading personal space.

“Listen to me, _boy_ ,” Venom spits the word into my face, with the same inflection he would use if he had called me a dog. “ _I_ call the shots around here. The Scorpions do what I say, so I strongly suggest you get your arrogant ass off that high throne of yours and learn to take orders. I know you’re well acquainted with a less-than exemplary lifestyle, and that your dad is a drug-dealing drunk with a short temper. As the son of a Serpent, you should be familiar with how this works.”

The jab at my dad hurts, especially with all the nasty rumors people have been saying. Sure, Venom is right about some of it. Dad had a bad drinking problem and made a lot of mistakes. But that was before he started to prove to me how much he really cares. “You don’t know _anything_ about me or my dad,” I hiss, eyes narrowing. 

Venom smirks at that, leaning away from my face. “FP Jones - or Forsythe Pendleton Jones the second - became a Southside Serpent when he was sixteen years old after being kicked out by his father, Forsythe Pendleton the _first_. After that he spent some time in the army, but came crawling back to the serpents after a year. He married Gladys Levins, a woman from Greendale who melted his cold heart. They had two kids: you and your little sister ‘Jellybean’. You excelled in school, specifically reading, writing, English literature. FP used to work for Fred Andrews, but when their friendship fell apart and your dad lost his job, he went off the deep end. He got drunk and was abusive towards your mother, so she took Jellybean and moved to Toledo, Ohio. Gladys couldn’t afford to take both kids, so you were left behind. You were bullied in school and then bullied at home. Your grades plummeted and you got sent to detention at least once a week; you got expelled three times before finally coming to Riverdale High -”

“- How do you...?” I gasp, eyes widening.

“How do I know so much about you?” Venom asks, pulling me forward to whisper in my ear. “It’s my job, Jughead. I know all about how you and your friends uncovered the murder of Jason Blossom. I know Archie, Veronica, Kevin, and of course _Betty_. I’ve been watching her almost as much as I’ve been watching you. She means a lot to you, doesn’t she? You two were sharing quite the moment before the Serpents showed up at your door.”

“No!” I protest, freeing myself from Venom’s grip. “No, she has nothing to do with this!”

The man laughs in front of me, head tilted back. “You don’t even understand what ‘this’ is, boy!”

“You want me for something, right?” I press, trying not to sound as desperate as I am. “Well you’ve _got_ me, okay? My friends don’t know about you, or where I am. They aren’t involved, so leave them out of it!”

Venom takes a step forward, and I have to fight my instincts to back away. He lashes out, grabbing my jaw, his eyes glinting dangerously. “Then I suggest you do as you’re told, Jughead,” he growls, squeezing my face tighter. “That means answer my questions, follow any commands we give you, and play by _my_ rules.”

“Or what?”

“Or you’ll find out just how much pain you can stand before you crack.”


	3. Betty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story contains SPOILERS for all of Season 1 of Riverdale. I do not own Riverdale or any of the characters from the Archie comics or the TV show.
> 
> As always I would love to hear your suggestions for where you would like the story to go!

I’m pacing agitatedly in the tiny kitchen, regretting everything and nothing I said at the same time. I meant what I told Jughead, but I had no idea he would blow up like that. I should have been gentler - after all, his dad _is_ in prison.

I let out a frustrated sound, dropping my head in my hands and leaning against the counter.

That’s when I hear the gunshot. I nearly jump out of my skin, the horrible sound fading into an eerie silence.

I try to tell myself that I heard wrong, that it wasn’t actually a gunshot, that I’m just being paranoid after watching Clifford Blossom shoot Jason. But I know what I heard.

I listen closely, holding my breath. I can very faintly hear angry voices, but it’s so short and they are gone before I can tell anything. The shot was close, though not immediately outside the trailer. I run to my purse, pulling my phone out with shaking hands. I dial 9-1-1, and try to control my breathing as much as possible. Sheriff Keller picks up after three rings, and a sob bubbles up from my throat. 

“This is the Sheriff’s office, what’s the emergency?” He asks, voice steady.

“Sheriff Keller - it’s Betty Cooper. I - I’m at the Jones’ trailer. Jughead went outside and there was a gunshot -”

“- I’m on my way, Betty,” he assures me, and I can hear him moving on the other side of the phone. “Is there anyone else in there with you? Archie? Veronica?”

“No,” I reply, running over to each dingy window and peering out carefully. “No, it was just me and Jughead.”

“When did you hear the shot?" 

“Just now. He was angry and stormed out a few minutes ago and then I...heard it.”

“Did you hear anything before or after the shot?”

“Someone yelling - I don’t know who.” 

“I need you to stay inside the trailer, Betty, you understand?” Sheriff Keller orders. “I’m on my way now. You won’t be helping anybody by getting yourself hurt, all right? Stay where you are and lock any doors and windows until I get there.”

“I u-understand,” I reply unsteadily, rushing to the door and locking it with trembling fingers. I start checking the windows, peering out into the darkness in hopes of spotting Jughead. _Alive_.

All I see is shadows and fog.

There’s another gunshot, and I cry out, dropping the phone onto the living room floor. I listen so hard, I can’t even breathe, desperate to hear something; _anything_ that means Jughead is okay.

“Betty?” Mr. Keller’s voice comes up from the phone, urgent and concerned. “Was that another gunshot?” 

“Y-yes,” I stammer, sliding down and onto the floor.

“Can you hear anything else?”

I listen hard, praying to hear Jughead’s familiar voice.

“N-no,” the sobs wrack my body, stealing my words.

“You locked the doors?” I nod in response, unable to speak, body shaking like a leaf. “Betty?” Sheriff Keller presses, and I absently remember that he can’t see me, and needs a vocal response.

“Yes,” I try to steady my voice as best I can. 

“Betty, I need you to get away from the windows, somewhere no one will be able to see you from the outside. Leave the phone on, let me know if you hear or see _anything_.”

“Okay,” I whisper, slowly crawling towards the bedrooms, afraid to stand and be caught. The silence is deafening, now. Not a damn sound.

What does that mean?

Is Jughead gone?

What if he’s bleeding out while I’m in here cowering on the floor?

What if he’s dead?

Hysteria begins to rise at the thought, but I force it aside. Juggie needs someone _now_. 

I stand up fully and walk away from the phone, hesitating a moment before placing my hand on the door handle. I remove the chain and flip the lock slowly, before opening the door in a rush and running out. 

The night is bitter cold, and I dart my eyes back and forth, peering into the creepy light from the dull lamps overhead. 

It’s very faint, but I hear a car door slam shut.

I take off in the direction of the sound, stopping in a clearing behind some of the trailers. The gravel has been kicked up in several areas, as if feet were pushing against the ground in a frantic attempt to get away.

I turn in circles, eyes wide and unblinking as I search around me for any signs of life.

A car rumbles a little bit off, and to hell with Sheriff Keller’s orders, I run after the clues, desperate to find Jughead. There’s a patch of trees, shrouded in darkness, and that’s where I go. I collide painfully with the ground, tripped up by a tree stump. It only takes a moment for me to regain my footing, racing onto a back road.

I’m just in time to see the taillights of a car getting further and further away at a rapid speed.

* * *

Everything after is a blur that rushes by while also being the slowest hours of my life.

I spent hours at the police station, answering questions for Sheriff Keller or simply curled against my mom on a couch. I was prohibited from investigating Jughead’s disappearance. 

“Let the professionals do their work,” dad had told me.

When I pulled out my phone to call Archie and Veronica, Sheriff Keller said to wait until they could investigate further. Not to create a panic yet. That’s when I realized that it was four in the morning. 

Kevin is here, though, holding my hand and sitting in silence. My parents suggested we should go home and try to sleep. I said no, I’m staying here so I can know what’s going on.

Dad went home and mom stayed, dozing off in a cushy chair in the waiting room. Kevin and I fell asleep while leaning on each other, both utterly exhausted.

I wake up to the panicked shouts of policemen, who are running through the hall.

Jolting upright, I rush to the door, catching Sheriff Keller on his way out.

“Jughead -” I start, hope and fear battling for a spot in my heart. 

“No,” He responds hurriedly, pushing me off. “I’m sorry Betty, I have to go!” With that he is darting out the door and to his car.

Kevin rushes past me and to the main desk, demanding to know what happened. I follow after him quickly, determined to get answers.

“It’s Fred Andrews,” the woman responds, brow knit in worry. “His son Archie just called saying that Fred was shot while they were at Pop’s.”

“No!” Kevin and I gasp together, gripping onto the other’s arm.

I hastily fish my phone from my back pocket, immediately calling Veronica.

“Hey B!” She answers cheerily, obviously unaware of what just happened. 

“V -” I stammer, trying to find the words, but just letting them rush out anyway. “Mr. Andrews was just shot at Pop’s -”

“ _What_?!” Veronica shouts back, panic rising in her voice. “Archie just left for Pop’s fifteen minutes ago! Is he -”

“I think he’s fine, but I don’t know,” I inform, heart pounding. “He’s the one who called the police.” 

“Wait, did he call you? How do you know this?”

“No, I’m at the station right now. Sheriff Keller just got the call and ran out.”

“Why are you at the station?” Veronica asks, confusion lacing in with her worried tone.

“Jughead...” I start, a lump rising in my throat.

“What? Betty, what happened to Jughead?”

“He’s been kidnapped.”


	4. Jughead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story contains SPOILERS for all of Season 1 of Riverdale. I do not own Riverdale or any of the characters from the Archie comics or the TV show.
> 
> As always I would love to hear your suggestions for where you would like the story to go!

I teeter on the edge of the chair, reaching for the covered vent that is just barely too high. I’ve been at this for what feels like two hours, trying desperately to find any way out of this tiny room. I already checked for hidden cameras, and as far as I can tell, there are none. Thank goodness they removed the handcuffs – evidently thinking that I won’t be able to escape. Hopefully I get the chance to prove them wrong.

I have to find a way out, no matter what. Who knows what Venom has planned, and I’m not about to stay and find out. I’m terrified for myself, but also for my dad and all my friends. I have no clue what these people kidnapped me for, but there is not a doubt in my mind that they are willing to hurt anybody who gets in their way. That means I need to warn them, no matter what that means for me. 

My fingers hook around the grate panels, and I take a deep breath before pulling down with all my might. I wince as the metal digs into my skin, but I can see it bending ever so slightly. I’m not that big, maybe if I can break the cover off, I can wriggle through the vents and get the hell out of here.

I startle at the sound of loud voices from outside, jumping a little. The movement shifts my foot just enough that I lose my balance, bringing the chair down from under me as I slam onto the concrete floor. I groan, rolling weakly onto my aching back. Reaching up to my head gingerly, I check for damage. No blood.

The door bangs open, revealing a very angry, very tall man. I pull myself to my feet, putting on my best neutral face.

“Yes?” I ask with a snarky tone. “Can I help you?” My whole body is still throbbing, but I do my best to ignore it.

“You trying to escape?” The man demands gruffly, eyeing the fallen chair.

“Why on earth would I try to do that?” I reply, feigning hurt. The man storms over, grabbing the chair aggressively and slamming it back down on four legs.

I take the chance. 

My legs propel me forward and out the door at full speed. I can hear my captor yelling behind me, followed by heavy footfalls as he chases after me. I sprint through unknown hallways, taking random turns in hopes that I’ll find a way out. Normally I would be more cautious, try to formulate a plan and make logical decisions. But there’s no time for anything other than running right now, so that’s what I do.

Increasing my speed, I dart past another corner, buying me a couple precious seconds. Glancing to my left, I see an open door, and slip through it hastily. The light is on, so I crawl under a nearby desk, pressing my body between some boxes and the wall. I hear the man’s footsteps continue down the hall, and I let out a shuddering breath as the adrenaline floods from my body.

“What do you mean, you _missed_?” Venom bellows. A chill comes over me when I realize that he is close, just beyond an open door attached to this small room.

“I had it under control, boss! I didn’t think the kid was going to move. He jumped forward and I thought I had him –“

“You _idiot_!” Venom growls, knocking something over that makes a loud crash. My heartbeat quickens – who is the kid? What happened?

“We can still work with this,” the shooter reasons loudly. “I know we wanted to kill the boy, but Andrews is just as good –“ I gasp audibly before I can stop myself, hitting my head against the desk. “It still creates chaos, what with this and the Jones boy gone missing –“ 

“Wait,” Venom cuts him off. There is silence, in which I fear that my thudding heartbeat will give me away. “I heard something.” 

I clamp my hand over my mouth, taking shallow breaths through my nose and squeezing myself further into the corner. I keep perfectly still as the two men creep into the office, where I am hiding just feet from their scuffed boots. I try to make myself smaller, not daring to move an inch.

A hand reaches in, yanking me out by the front of my sweater. I fight back, panic clawing at my chest as I kick and punch. My fist collides with the man who shot Mr. Andrews, socking him right in the nose. The moment of satisfaction is short lived. Venom twists my arm behind my back at a harsh angle, sending sharp pangs of agony through my elbow and shoulder. He slams me down onto the desk, halting all attempts at escape.

“You little brat,” Venom spits from above me, leaning in closer. “How’d you get out, huh?”

“Your guards are idiots,” I retort, trying to wriggle free. I low whine begins in my throat as my arm is pushed further up my back. Much more and I’m afraid the bone will break. 

“And _you_ ,” he accentuates the word by pressing harder on my arm. I choke between a gasp and a cry. “Should have listened to me when I warned you the first time!”

“You shot Fred Andrews!” I bite back, anger flooding through me. “You targeted Archie – _why_?”

“You don’t get to know those answers, Jughead,” Venom growls, voice icy. He sends me crashing into the floor, skidding with the momentum. I try to get to my feet, but fall down again when a fist slams into my skull. Another one has me sprawled on the tile, blood gushing from my throbbing nose. I raise my arms in an attempt to protect my head from any further blows, but Venom grabs me by the bicep, forcing me into an empty chair.

I look up through clouded eyes to see Mr. Andrew’s shooter hand Venom a black piece of cloth. It isn’t until he puts it on that I realize it’s a ski mask, the eyes cut out roughly. The other man pulls out a phone, pointing the camera towards me.

I shrink down in the chair as Venom stalks closer, fear rippling through me, causing my whole body to shake.

“You won’t kill me,” I say, trying to appear confident. My fear is evident – I’m not fooling anybody. "You want me for something-"

“ _Shut up_!” He snaps, pulling a gun from his belt and aiming it towards me. I flinch back, breath catching in my throat. I think back to the video of Clifford Blossom shooting his own son between the eyes.

Venom turns towards the camera, lifting the gun. “Betty Cooper,” my face crumbles at the name. She’s getting mixed up into all of this and _it’s all my fault_. “I’ll keep this simple: You will deliver this message to FP Jones, and convince him to hand over each and every Serpent that took part in Jason Blossom’s death to the authorities.” Venom presses the gun barrel against my right temple.

Cold fear floods through me as I see Venom’s finger slowly pressing down on the trigger. I try to pull away, to escape the bullet I know is coming. He slaps his free hand down on my left shoulder, making me jump. His tightening grip forces me into submission, until he is practically choking me. 

“Tell _anyone_ else about this and –“ 

He pulls the trigger.


	5. Betty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story contains SPOILERS for all of Season 1 of Riverdale. I do not own Riverdale or any of the characters from the Archie comics or the TV show.
> 
> As always I would love to hear your suggestions for where you would like the story to go!

The four of us are huddled in the hospital waiting room. We ran out of tears an hour ago. Now we sit in silence. There are no words to say.

I didn’t want to tell Archie that Jughead was taken, but I knew I couldn’t hide it, either. Part of me hoped he would be too lost in his own thoughts to notice that his best friend wasn’t there.

But of course it only took a few minutes of hugging on each other before he began to look around.

“Does Jughead know, yet?” He questioned distractedly, brow furrowed. He’s still in his varsity jacket, stained with his father’s blood. 

The sobs I had been holding back came then, wracking my body as I leaned into Kevin’s waiting arms. Veronica took charge, taking Archie’s hands and holding them close. 

“Archie,” She began, unsure of how to phrase it. 

“What?” He had demanded, fear rising in his tone. “ _Where is Jughead_?”

“He – He was with Betty at the trailer park. After he went outside Betty heard gunshots and yelling…”

“Did you see anybody?” Archie asked frantically, turning to me. “A man in a black ski mask?”

“No,” I shook my head. “No, all I saw when I ran out was a car rushing away.”

“But he’s alive, then?”

“Yes!” I said, mostly for my benefit. “Yes, I-I think so...” 

After that Archie told us everything that had happened at Pop’s. Nobody knew yet if Mr. Andrews was going to make it through surgery.

The vibrations of my phone break the silence between us. Archie glances over, but his mind is in the operating room with his dad. Veronica resumes stroking her fingers through his hair, trying to soothe him. 

I pull the phone from my purse, surprised to see a text message from a hidden number. I open it with shaky fingers, dread coursing through me.

Above the video attachment are the words “Open in private.”

I get up hurriedly, startling my friends. They all look up at me in surprise, expecting news on Jughead.

“Is it about Jughead?“ Veronica asks, a small flicker of hope in her eyes.

“No,” I lie, because that’s exactly what I think this message is. “Sorry, I…Just really need to walk around. I can’t sit anymore.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Kevin offers, concern evident on his face.

“No,” I repeat, anxious to escape. “I just want to be alone for awhile.” I hurry away before they can ask any more questions, making my way outside of the building. I find a reasonably empty corner of the parking lot, hidden by the dumpsters.

I turn back to my phone, holding my breath as I load the video.

A cry is wrenched from my throat when I see Jughead slumped in a chair. His face is streaked with blood, a bruise forming on his cheek. But he’s _alive_. He’s alive and that matters more than anything else in the world.

That’s when a man in a black hood walks into frame. It can’t be a coincidence that Mr. Andrew’s killer wore a ski mask.

“You won’t kill me,” Jughead attempts snark, but I can see the fear in his eyes, the way his lip has begun to tremble. “You want me for something-“

“Shut up!” The man shouts, pointing a gun into Jughead’s face. Panic rises in me, tears flowing freely down my cheeks. But I can’t look away. 

“Betty Cooper,” the masked man begins, making my breath catch in my throat. Is this all my fault? Did they take Juggie because of my speech at town hall? “I’ll keep this simple: You will deliver this message to FP Jones, and convince him to hand over each and every Serpent that took part in Jason Blossom’s death to the authorities.”

This is what I was afraid of. That Jughead would get trapped in a horrible mess because of the Serpents.

My thoughts stop dead in their tracks when the man forces the gun against Jughead’s temple. My grip tightens around the phone, and I remain stock still, afraid that if I move, he’ll shoot. 

Jughead panics, fighting to get out of the chair, his eyes blown wide. The man holds him down by the neck, squeezing so hard that I’m afraid he will cut off Jughead’s windpipe. 

“Tell _anyone_ else about this and –“ 

My scream mixes with Jughead’s as the man pulls the trigger. I drop the phone, unable to watch my boyfriend’s gruesome murder. I sink to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.

But there was no gunshot.

I lunge for the phone. Jughead cowers in the chair. He’s crying and visibly trembling in terror. A wail of relief shakes through me, my heart thundering in my chest.

The man steps in front of the chair, looking directly at me through the camera. I force myself to stay silent so I hear the words he says next.

“Unless you want to find Jughead at the bottom of Sweetwater River, I suggest you do as I say. I expect confirmation that you have received this message and understand my terms.”

The video ends, but I cannot move.

“Betty?”

I snap my head up at Kevin’s hesitant whisper. He is standing by the dumpster, shock and fear etched on his face. I try to form words, but everything just gets stuck in my throat.

“Who was that?” He asks, pointing to the phone.

“N-No one,” I lie, shoving the phone into my pocket hurriedly.

“Don’t lie to me, Betty,” Kevin presses, coming closer. “I heard him. He has Jughead.”

“Kevin, please,” I beg, shaking my head. “You c-can’t know about this. Please, he warned me not to tell anyone…”

“That’s why you ran out,” Kevin murmurs, forehead creasing. “I followed you. I know you told me not to but I didn’t want you to be alone. It’s not safe –“ 

“Listen to me, Kevin,” I insist, rising to my feet and grabbing Kevin by the shoulders. “The people who have Jughead can’t find out that you know. It’s supposed to just be me and FP.”

“Why? Why you two?” 

“I don’t know why they chose me. But they want FP to tell your dad the names of the Serpents that helped in Jason’s death.”

“How are you going to tell FP without the authorities overhearing?”

“I need your help.”


	6. Jughead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the long wait! I was getting writer’s block and also went to Africa for a month, then got back home and was a camp counselor for a week, and now I’m playing Helena in a Midsummer Night’s Dream this summer. SO I’ve been just a tad bit busy.
> 
> From this point on I want to put up a potential SPOILER WARNING for season 2 because some of my decisions are inspired by things that have been happening since the season 1 finale.

I’m preparing myself for death. For all the lights to snuff out for good. More than anything else, my heart breaks over the fact that Betty will have to see it. I know she’s strong, but she’s already seen too much. We all have; but I wanted to protect her.

I shouldn’t have yelled at her, shouldn’t have stormed out, shouldn’t have put the Serpents before her. 

I clench my eyes shut, unable to watch the gun go off. I’ll feel it. Or I won’t. That’s enough. 

 _Dad will see this, too_. Horrible guilt washes over me. _I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry_. I always make such stupid mistakes. Too rash, too angry, too prideful, too weird, too broken. All I do is cause people pain. 

A scream rips from my throat. _I don’t want to die!_  

The gun clicks. Empty.

Pride be damned, a sob escapes me. I sink farther into myself, trying to hide from the world. My whole body is shaking like a leaf, and I struggle to draw a shuddering breath. 

“Unless you want to find Jughead at the bottom of Sweetwater River, I suggest you do as I say. I expect confirmation that you have received this message and understand my terms.” Venom finishes, before gesturing for his goon to stop recording.

It takes more courage than I knew I had to regain some composure. Hastily wiping the tears from my face, I sit up straight in the chair. I want to stand, but I’m not a complete idiot. Venom may not have shot me, but I already know the other man has a loaded gun somewhere. And if I’m being honest with myself, I don’t know how well my legs can hold me right now.

Venom removes the mask, turning to me with a sneer. “Don’t test me, boy,” he spits, coming closer. “Next time won’t be a warning.”

I want to shout that he won’t get away with this, that the police will find him, that he can’t make Betty or my dad do anything. But those are clichés, and even I don’t believe them. Life isn’t like a novel – the bad guys don’t always go to prison and sometimes the good guys die. And happy endings don’t come for people like me.

“What’s your motive for turning in the Serpents? How could you possibly benefit from that?”

“You’re a smart kid, Jughead,” Venom narrows his eyes at me, which are full of malice. “But you’re in way over your head. You don’t cooperate and you’ll get hurt. Keep running your mouth, and we’ll _make_ you to shut up. You do _not_ want to test my patience, because I am _not_ forgiving.” He grips my throat, squeezing slightly as if in promise of what’s to come. “I don’t like you, Jughead, and I won’t hesitate to cut you down. I can make your life a living hell while we wait for your Daddy to follow our rules. _So don’t push your luck_.”

“You don’t know me,” I snap back, grabbing his arm and knocking it away. “And you can’t make me do anything.” 

“You underestimate how much power I have, Jughead.”

I rise to my feet, standing my ground in front of my captor. All of the pent up anger and fear drives me forward, my hands itching to hit the man before me. “I already escaped once, and your goons can’t even shoot straight! Like you said, I’m _smart_. I helped uncover the murder of Jason Blossom, and I’m going to turn you in, too. The real question is if you’ll make it to prison, or if you’ll be dead like Clifford Blossom.” 

Venom laughs; I’m really starting to hate that sound. “What?” He asks, as if talking to a dumb child. Our faces are inches apart now, as he looks down on me menacingly, voice turning to a whisper. “Are you going to kill me, Jughead? I’d like to see you try.” 

“Don’t push your luck,” I spit in Venom’s face, repeating his previous warning.

The uppercut comes out of nowhere, sending me sprawling backward, colliding with the chair on my way to the floor. My brain is dazed, and I flounder for a moment, trying to regain my vision.

Before I can move, a heavy boot slams into my unprotected ribs, stealing all the air from my lungs. Another in the same place has me crying out, trying to curl into myself. Venom lands one last kick to my back, knocking me flat onto my stomach. I stay still, trying to recover my breathing and any pride I have left. 

Venom rolls me over to my side, and I look up in time to see him snap a photo of me on his phone. He smirks at me, contempt clear in his eyes.

“I can do so much worse than that, Jughead. Give me a reason to strike, and I will.” 

“How fitting,” I retort, thinking of the man’s chosen name. Venom gestures to man who shot Mr. Andrews.

“This is Cruncher. I think you can guess what he does best.”

“Obviously not shoot.” I know it was a stupid thing to say, but it came out before I could stop myself. Cruncher kicks me in the stomach, interrupting my attempt to stand. He promptly follows it with a charged blow to the groin, sending me back down to the floor. I grit my teeth against the pain, holding back the groans rising in my throat.

“I’ll show you just how straight I can shoot –“ Cruncher snarls, pulling the gun from his back pocket.

“Put it away,” Venom barks, glaring at Cruncher. “As much as I’d like to put the brat down, we can’t.” He meets my gaze, holding it menacingly. “Yet.”

“Ominous,” I snap, my voice coming out weaker than I thought it would.

Venom snags a handful of my hair, unprotected by the usual beanie. I cry out as he drags me to my feet, storming out of the room and into the hallway. Cruncher follows close behind us, gun still gripped in his hand. Each stumbling step and tug against my scalp sends protests through my muscles, head pounding from the recent abuse.

Venom stops our march through the halls to grab something that was hanging from a hook on the wall. I hear the chains before I can see them properly, and I know that my chances at escaping again are going to be slim.

He drags me forward and back into the small room that I was kept in before. The chair is still sideways on the floor, but the previous guard is nowhere to be seen. I’m shoved to the far corner furthest from the door. Cruncher and Venom stand next to each other, effectively blocking any chances of me getting away.

“Try to escape and you’ll regret it,” Venom sneers, pushing past me and anchoring the chain around a pipe attached to the wall. I’m tempted to make a run for it, but the dark expression on Cruncher’s face makes me think twice. Venom yanks me closer to him before wrapping the chain links tight around my torso twice, before fastening them with a sturdy padlock. 

“You seriously need all that to secure a teenager?” I taunt, fists clenching. “And here I thought you were a professional kidnapper.”

Rough hands wrap around my throat, shoving me until I slam against the wall. All air is gone. I can feel my mouth gaping as I try to pry Venom’s fingers from my neck, but he’s squeezing, and my vision is blacking around the edges.

He lets go, knocking me into the wall again. I slide down, clawing at my throat as air attacks my lungs. My hazy mind registers the slamming of the door as the two men leave me alone. The clicking of the lock reverberates in my ears, mocking me.


	7. Betty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I just need to stop making excuses as to why it took me so long to update.

Kevin’s eyes are wide. “Betty, how in the hell are we going to go behind my dad’s back?”

“I don’t know!” I snap, desperation threatening to clog my throat. “Okay? All I know is that Jughead is in danger and they are going to kill him if we don’t do what they say or your dad finds out.”

“But – Betty, we’re just kids –“

“Kids who have been to hell and back and caught a murderer and almost _died_ in the process. Kids who are at the hospital because someone tried to shoot our friend’s dad. Kids who get _kidnapped_ and _blackmailed_ and _hurt_ – We may technically be kids, Kev, but we’ve seen and done things most adults haven’t.”

Kevin looks away, rubbing his forehead. “We are in such deep shit.” 

My phone vibrates in my hand, and I hastily unlock the screen to reveal the new message. 

Jughead is curled on the ground, face pinched with pain and smeared with blood flowing from his nose. He looks disoriented and scared. A tear track is etched into the red that starkly contrasts against his pale skin.

Kevin looks sick to his stomach, reading the text attached to the photo. “You have two hours to deliver my message to F.P. Jones. Fail to follow my orders or tell the authorities, and your boyfriend pays the price.”

“We need to get moving,” I whisper, eyes fixed on the picture of Jughead.

“What are we going to tell Veronica and Archie?” Kevin asks, turning his panicked eyes on me. “We can’t just disappear.”

“We’ll say that your dad needs me at the station and you’re coming with me for support,” I respond shakily, shoving my phone into the pocket of my skirt. Kevin nods, silently agreeing as we walk back into the hospital together. My palms are sweaty, my heart still pattering at an unnatural rate.

Our friends have not moved. Archie sits facing the doors that block him from his possibly dying father. His face is blank, mind worlds away. Veronica is hugging his arm tightly, quiet tears rolling down her cheeks. She looks up when we reach them, brow furrowed.

“Is everything okay?” She asks, voice full of concern.

“Sheriff Keller needs me at the station to answer some more questions,” I lie smoothly, not having to fake the worry. “Kevin is coming with me. Will you two be okay here?” Archie does not respond, eyes not quite reaching mine even though he has turned my way. I kneel down in front of him, taking his hand. “Archie?”

“My dad was just shot trying to save me and my best friend has been kidnapped,” he responds hollowly. “What the hell is going on?”

“I don’t know,” I murmur, voice breaking. “I wish I did.”

“You go, Betty,” Veronica offers gently. “I’ll take care of Archie.” 

“Thanks, V,” I nod to her before squeezing Archie’s hand and hurrying away with Kevin. My heart feels like lead, but we sprint the whole way to the sheriff’s station. 

“Thank God they haven’t moved him to the prison yet,” Kevin pants as we reach the parking lot. “If they had there’d be no way we’d be able to get to him without someone seeing.” 

“We’re not in yet,” I remind him, fear still gripping my heart. 

The station is practically empty. With a teenager missing and a shooter on the loose, most of the officers are out hunting for the victim and suspect.

“Kevin,” I whisper as we stand anxiously in the nearly deserted lobby. “How often do they check the security cameras for the cells?”

“Usually every other day,” he answers thoughtfully. “More if they are worried about whoever is in there. But what with everything going on right now I doubt they’ll get to it for the next few days.”

“That will have to be enough time then.”

“Dare I say it…” Kevin sighs, rubbing his temples. “But Betty…I don’t know how much longer Jughead has.”

“Then let’s stop wasting time,” I snap, not really angry at Kevin. He voiced what I already know; what I can’t let myself believe. We walk up to the front desk, where the woman looks absolutely overwhelmed. 

“Hi Sharon,” Kevin greets politely. “We’d like to visit F.P. Jones.”

“Does it have to be right now?” She asks incredulously. “You two shouldn’t even be in here. You should be staying safe at home with your parents.” 

“Please, Sharon,” I interject, desperation threatening to spill over. “F.P. deserves to know what’s happening with Jughead. And it should come from me, not the police. _Please_.” 

Sharon looks at me sympathetically for a moment before nodding. “Of course, you’re right. Take all the time you need.” 

“Thank you so much,” I reply genuinely, relief washing over me.

“I’ll walk you back. Most of our officers are out right now, what with – well, you know…” I can tell that Sharon doesn’t know what to say, at a loss for words. We follow her through the back hallway, where she swipes a keycard and leads us through a previously locked door. “I’m so sorry for all of this. You’re just kids. I can’t even imagine…”

“Thanks,” I mumble, unsure of how to respond. I’m not really listening anyway. My heart is threating to pound out of my chest, my fingernails digging into my freshly healed palms. 

Finally Sharon leads us into a room with a cell built in, where F.P. is lounging on a cot pushed against the wall. “Here you go,” Sharon says softly, closing the door behind us.

F.P. looks up, obviously surprised to see us. “Betty,” he startles, eyes widening. “And – it’s Kevin, right? Sheriff Keller’s boy?” 

“Yes sir,” Kevin responds uncomfortably.

“Well, if you wouldn’t mind putting a good word in for me, I’d appreciate it,” F.P. quips back, half joking. He stands, approaching the bars and resting his arms against them. “What are you two doing in here? Did Jughead send you?” I can sense the pain in his voice at that last question, and I wonder what words were shared when the two spoke last. Jughead never filled me in…

“No,” I reply slowly, coming to stand opposite of him. “Mr. Jones…Jughead is in trouble.”

F.P. clearly tenses at that, eyes narrowing immediately as he leans forward. “What kind of trouble are we talking? Is it money, the cops? Is it because of me? Is he hurt?” I remember the few stories Jughead told me of life with his father; drunken shouting matches, never feeling safe or wanted at home, being told to hide in his bedroom until the visitors had left. But the parental concern is etched plainly into every feature of F.P.’s face and every hurried question from his mouth. He may not be the best father, but it’s obvious that he truly loves his son.

I take a deep breath before giving all the information, careful not to leave anything out. “We were at the trailer together last night, and some Serpents came and gave Jug your jacket, and after they left he and I got in a fight. Jug left the trailer and suddenly I heard yelling and gunshots –“ F.P.’s eyes grow wide, and he starts to take a step back. “He’s alive!” I add hurriedly, noting the father’s sigh of relief. “But – but whoever it was out there, they – they took him. I called the police and ran out and saw a car driving away.” 

“But you said he’s alive?” F.P. whispers anxiously, looking at the floor. “How do you know?”

“I was at the hospital –“ F.P. looks up at that, eyes full of hope and fear. “Mr. Andrews was shot at Pop’s while he was there with Archie. They rushed him into surgery.”

“What the hell?” F.P. pulls at his hair anxiously, much like Jughead does when he’s upset and trying to keep himself under control.

“I - I got a text message from Jughead’s kidnappers. I don’t know why they contacted me and not someone else or if they shot Mr. Andrews or what they want with Jughead or –“

“Just tell me what they said!” F.P. snaps, gripping the bars until his knuckles turn white. A sob rises in my throat as I dig my phone out, scrolling through with trembling fingers until I find the message. I hold it out to F.P., who instantly snatches it from my hand.

“Here,” I offer in a quiet voice, watching as he presses play.

Even though I can’t see the screen, the images are burned into my mind. I watch F.P.’s reactions as he stares intently at the recording of his kidnapped son. He’s hyper-focused, not wanting to miss a single thing. I do my best to block out the sound of the masked man’s voice; it will already haunt me in my nightmares.

F.P. is so still, I wonder if he is actually breathing. But the moment the man in the video rests his gun against Jughead’s temple, F.P.’s demeanor changes. His grip tightens around the phone, jaw set and chest rising and falling heavily. He visibly flinches when they pull the trigger, even though I told him Jughead is alive.

The sound of Jughead’s sob hits me hard, as much as I try to push the sound away. I look over to Kevin, who has his arms wrapped tightly around himself and eyes glued to the floor.

There is a moment of silence as the video ends. I don’t dare speak, shifting my gaze to Mr. Jones, who is looking dully at the screen. A low, heartbreaking sound starts deep in his throat and he makes to slam the phone against the wall before thinking better of it. Instead he shoves the object into my hand, running his palms against his face as if trying to calm himself.

“Th-there’s one more thing they sent me,” I murmur softly. F.P. looks up to me instantly, his whole body tense. I quickly open the text message, holding the phone out again.

F.P.’s eyes bore into the image, taking in every word and detail. He kicks the cot aggressively, a dangerous look on his face. He shouts as he does it again, and I’m suddenly reminded of the fact that he’s a gang leader who helped in the murder of Jason Blossom. 

“Shit, shit, shit, shit –“ He curses loudly, fists clenching and unclenching as he storms aimlessly across the cell, perhaps looking for another thing to hit.

I jump back, and Kevin is instantly by my side. “Mr. Jones,” He interjects, voice impressively level. “What do we do?”

“We need to know what they want,” I reply quickly, turning to my friend.

“They want confirmation that I got the message?” F.P. growls from behind the bars, finally stopping to look at us. “That’s what we’ll give them. Record me, Betty. I have a message for that bastard.” 

I open the camera on my phone, nodding to F.P. when the red light blinks on.

“You got what you wanted, you ass!” he starts, voice low. “You’ve got my attention. But I swear if you touch my boy one more time I will rip you apart. You’re playing a dangerous game here, and I _will_ get out of here and when I find you you’ll wish you had never set foot in Riverdale. No Serpent stands alone, and you’re going to have Hell to pay.” 

I stop recording, swallowing the lump in my throat. 

“Mr. Jones, we have to be strategic here –“ Kevin starts, worry creeping into his voice. 

“This is my _son_ , not some political campaign!” F.P. snaps, effectively shutting Kevin up. “Send the video, Betty.”


	8. Jughead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hold on, this is an eventful chapter!!

It hurts to breath with the chain pressed so tightly against my pounding ribs, but somehow I’ve managed to slip in and out of a troubled sleep. I’ve held the tears back for a couple reasons. One being that I’ve been trying to move my beaten body as little as possible and shaking it would hurt too much. The second being that if I start, I don’t know when I’ll be able to stop.

Years of growing up in a shitty lifestyle have taught me how to hide my feelings. Mom knew how to handle her crying kids, but I could never go to Dad with my problems. Especially because most of them were his fault. The week before Mom up and left, they had gotten in a huge fighting match. I remember every angry word and insult that they screamed at each other, and I can’t forget the image of my own father backhanding his wife so hard she fell to the ground.

I saw it all from where I had been cowering on the armchair in the corner. All because I had gotten beaten up at school and Dad was drunk and angry that I hadn’t fought back. Not to mention the fact that Mr. Andrews had betrayed him and now we couldn’t afford to pay the electricity bill. Mom tried to comfort me and say I did the right thing, but everything got out of hand so fast.

I stood up to him that night. I couldn’t go to school the next day because we couldn’t afford for anyone to figure out that the black eye wasn’t from one of the jocks. Mom and Jellybean left a few days later, only leaving a short note on my pillow and an angry drunk for me to come home to.

_I love you, Juggie. I’m sorry I couldn’t take you with us. I promise I have my reasons. Keep writing and stay out of trouble._

_– Love Mom_  

I ran away that night and started my life at the Drive-In. I was fourteen years old.

_Damn it_. I should never have let my mind bring up the painful memories, because now tears are rolling down my dirty cheeks. I curl further into a ball, trying to block out the world around me. Being homeless was better than my reality now. At least then I could dig through the trashcans behind Pop’s and eat some cold burgers. 

The thought makes my stomach growl. Pop had offered me a minimum wage job since I spent all of my time there, anyway. But the memory of sneaking the tips off tables at a particularly difficult time weighed too heavily on me to accept. I’ve made it a point to give him as much service as I can to make up for it.

I drag myself out of the dark thoughts and back to the tiny room. Loneliness is not new to me, but I had let myself believe that the sense of belonging from Betty, Archie, and even Veronica would last. My dad was going to clean up his act and I was going to be a normal teenager for once. Using the term _normal_ very loosely, but still.

The door slams open, startling me enough that I instinctually scramble back against the wall. Venom storms in, face livid. Another man and women follow, dragging in a large bucket of water until it’s right in front of me. Cruncher and a couple others come in last, closing and guarding the door.

I jump to my feet, hands shaking as I eye Venom nervously. Cruncher grabs the chair from the other side of the room and drags it over, setting a laptop on the seat so I can clearly see the screen. My heart drops into my stomach when Venom slides the black mask onto his face once more. Whatever is about to happen, it’s not good. 

“What, you all going to watch me take a bath?” I joke hollowly, watching as Cruncher starts setting the computer up for something. “Didn’t know you were into that kind of –“ 

“Shut up,” Venom spites, slapping me square in the face. I do as I’m told, but pull away when he grabs my wrist. Venom growls in frustration before kicking my knee and knocking me to the ground. I fall hard, unable to stop him this time as a zip tie secures my wrists in front of me, biting into my skin.

I hear the familiar chime of a Skype call, and glance up to see Betty’s terrified face appear on the computer screen.

“Juggie!” She whispers, eyes racking over me with concern, taking in my condition.

“I want to speak with FP,” Venom demands from behind the mask, turning to the screen. Betty nods uneasily, handing the phone over to my dad. His face is twisted in anger, all directed at Venom. Then dad sees me, and his eyes soften.

“How do you feel, Jughead? Did they hurt you?” Dad’s voice is urgent, almost pleading. It’s a side I’m not used to seeing from him. 

“He’s fine,” Venom sneers, landing a quick punch to my stomach. I cry out, squeezing my eyes shut against the sharp pain. I’m no doctor, but I can tell that something is not right with my ribs after all the recent abuse. “Aren’t you, Jughead?” 

“You leave my boy alone, you piece of shit!” Dad growls. 

“You know what your problem is, FP?” Venom chuckles, shaking his head knowingly. “You think you can scare me into doing what you say. But don’t forget that you’re the one behind bars and I’m the one holding your son’s life in my hands.”

I watch Dad bite back his next insult, eyes still livid. “What do you want?”

“Just some simple requests, really,” Venom replies easily. “First of all, where’s that sweet little detective?” My muscles tense, fists clenching. I don’t like hearing Venom refer to Betty like that, but I also know there’s very little I can do about it. 

“She’s here,” Dad responds stiffly. 

“Let her see. I want to talk to both of you.” The screen shifts as Dad angles the phone so the camera catches Betty’s anxious face past the bars of Dad’s cell. “Good.”

Betty’s eyes meet mine, and I try to give her a comforting smile, but we both know it’s fake. The three of us are scared out of our minds, awaiting Venom’s every word. A tear trickles down Betty’s cheek, and I have the desperate need to wipe it away, hands itching to hold hers.

Venom snatches a fistful of my hair, his other hand gripping my shoulder painfully. I try to jerk away, but he moves to my neck, giving it a harsh squeeze in warning. I choke, and the next thing I know my head is submerged in icy cold water.

It’s a shock, the water rushing into my mouth as I fight against the weight holding me down.

Suddenly I’m up again, gasping for air. The air whooshes against my now soaked sweater, a pool around the bucket and myself. Venom has let go, and I pull away, shaking the water from my eyes as I catch my breath.

“You son of a bitch!” Dad is shouting at Venom, the phone shaking in his hand. “He didn’t even do anything!”

“That was a taste of what I’ll do if you don’t give me what I want,” Venom jeers.

“What _do_ you want?” Betty asks, cutting Dad off before he can say something stupid.

“I want the mighty king of the Southside Serpents to confess to the murder of Jason Blossom.”

“What?” I blurt, looking up at Venom in shock. “But he didn’t do it!”

The man lunges for me again, shoving my head back into the water before I can fight back. I manage a huge lungful of air before I go down, praying it will last me long enough. Time slows, and my air begins to fade. Just as I’m about to panic, I’m yanked out again, lungs burning and eyes watering.

“Clifford Blossom murdered Jason, not Mr. Jones!” Betty protests, voice rising. 

I’m back down before I can even really think about it. I try to wriggle out, but Venom has a tight, unrelenting hold of my hair. And then I’m brought back, the florescent lights of the closet attacking my tear-filled eyes.

“Stop it!” Dad demands loudly. “I’ll do it, alright? I’ll plead guilty and you let my son go unharmed!” Betty shoots a glance somewhere off camera at this, as if seeking advice.

“Who’s there?” Venom snaps immediately, pulling harder on my scalp. Betty instantly locks her wide eyes back on the screen, but it’s too late. “I told you Jughead would pay if you told anyone else about this!”

“No one’s there!” Betty shakes her head adamantly, but I know her too well to be fooled by the lie.

There’s no time for breath before my head is fully submerged. I try to keep my mouth closed, but water is seeping in and the panic comes fast. I thrash around, desperate to breathe, but Venom only pushes me down further, gripping the back of my neck until he’s practically choking me. I can hear loud voices in the distance, like someone is shouting, but my mind is beyond coherent thought. All I know is that I need _air_ , I need _out_ , I can’t _breathe_ -

I’m thrown to the ground, hacking and blubbering. My ears are ringing, and even though I’m out of the water I can’t seem to breathe right. I lay on the cold concrete, all energy gone. My eyes blearily look up to the computer screen, where I suddenly see Kevin’s terrified face. My stomach drops. 

“I told you not to tell anyone –“ Venom barks, pointing a finger at Betty.

“I didn’t mean to!” She begs, tears staining her cheeks. “He saw me watching the video and there was nothing I could do!”

“Stupid girl, you made a big mistake!” 

Suddenly I know what I need to do, and I force my body up, fighting against the exhaustion and pain. I have to act fast.

“Please don’t hurt Jughead, I didn’t mean to go against you, I promise –“

In one swift movement, my fingers latch onto Venom’s black hood, yanking it off his head.

There is a brief moment where nothing happens.

And then everything goes to hell.


	9. Jughead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeyyoo, guess who has arisen from the grave? It’s me! This fall semester kicked me in the butt, and then I was having such a hard time getting this chapter right, but I am back!
> 
> Also, Happy New Year! It’s hard to believe it’s 2019 at last. This year holds a lot of unknowns for me, but some big things I’m anticipating include: a spring break trip to London, graduating college, and becoming an aunt for the first time! So crazy, but I’m looking forward to it all!

“You _son of a bitch_!” Venom bellows, shoving me back down to the ground.

I fall hard, scampering away as fast as I can only to be wrenched back by the chain around my waist. My kidnappers lunge for me, and I do my best to escape them while still attached to the pipe. My feet leave the ground as I fight the strong arms trying to subdue me, kicking and pushing with my bound hands. An elbow hooks under my jaw, yanking me back. I instantly try to pry it away, but I’m not strong enough. I can hear Betty, Kevin, and Dad yelling, which means the call hasn’t been cut off yet.

“Dad!” I shout, struggling to get to the computer, feet slipping under me. I talk fast, giving as much information as I can before they shut me up. “The man in the mask – they call him Venom, he’s the leader of the gang – the Scorpions, they tried to shoot Arch –“

A hand slaps against my face, holding my mouth and jaw closed. I keep trying, but my words are muffled, incoherent. The computer is slammed shut, officially leaving me alone to fight for myself. I just hope my friends and Dad can do some digging and get me the hell out of here.

“I’m going to kill you, you little bitch!” Venom seethes, storming up to me. I wrench my face free from the man behind me, although he still has an arm wrapped around my neck.

“Except you won’t!” I spit back angrily. “You need me alive so you can use me as your pawn! But who are you working for, huh? I don’t believe for a minute that you or your goons are smart enough to set this all up, so who is it?”

I can see the restraint in Venom’s body as he forces his arms to his sides, face twisted in rage. “Oh, you’ll meet them soon enough,” he whispers dangerously, eyes boring into my own.

“When?” 

“After you pay for that stunt of yours. You better hope your little detective slut doesn’t go poking her head where it doesn’t belong!”

“Don’t you dare talk about her that way –“ 

“Or…?” Venom taunts. “What will you do to me, Jughead? Write something in your little school newspaper? Please. You’re just a worthless, hormonal teenager. You may think you’re all high and mighty with the Southside Serpents, but you’ll always be the little boy your mama left behind.” I try to lunge forward, but the arm around my neck tightens, keeping me still. I choke on an angry yell, pulling harder against the main holding me.

“Go to hell,” I growl, lacing my words with as much fire as I can muster. 

“You first, kid.” Venom looks to the man behind me, giving him a curt nod. “Unchain him. I’m going to whip some obedience into our little friend here.” As I’m unchained from behind, Venom comes closer. I eye him warily, unsure what he’s got planned. Venom’s hands close around my belt, and I instantly fight back, heart jumping into my throat.

“What are you doing?” I shout, trying to squirm away and shove him back with my bound hands. A woman runs over, holding me still so Venom can tug the belt free of my pants. The zip ties around my wrists are cut, and I lash out, punching and elbowing anyone I can, trying to get away from my attckers. There are more of them around me now, and without warning my sweater is wrestled up and off me. “Get off me! _Let me go_!” I’m panicking, fears going to dark places as I struggle for all I’m worth. 

Strong arms wrap around my own, hauling me back. I keep fighting, but with the unrelenting grips stretching my arms out to either side, I know there’s no escaping this. I look up to see Venom before me, still holding my belt in his fist. He’s looking at me curiously, taking a menacing step closer. I flinch back immediately, pulling against the hands holding me. 

“ _Don’t_!”

Venom stops, realization crossing his face. A small smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth as he continues forward. I hold my breath, muscles tensing even as I try to stay in control. Venom circles behind me, and I crane my neck in an attempt to see what he’ll do. I seem to have forgotten how to breathe, waiting for something to happen, the anticipation pounding in my chest.

The belt rises high, and almost before I can register it, my bare back feels as though it is on fire. It comes down again, and my knees give out a little when the belt buckle slams against my spine. I try to hold my ground, keep the sounds of pain to a minimum, pretend it doesn’t hurt. But after the eighth strike against my back, I crumple; only held up by my arms.

“Have you learned your lesson, boy?” Venom bellows from behind me, but I cannot see him with my head resting against my chest.

“Screw you,” I growl, followed by a yelp at the following strike. The belt slams down again, but harder, as if Venom is encouraged by my breakdown, and I can’t help but let out a ragged sob. Another blow hits, the buckle scratching against the skin of my right shoulder.

I brace myself for more, but am surprised when my arms are dropped carelessly. I collapse on the floor, catching myself with my left forearm, body quaking with shallow breaths and the pain ricocheting through my back and shoulder. 

I feel broken, so aware of my hopelessness as I lay crying on the concrete with everyone watching. Venom was right, I’m just a kid caught up in all of this shit. I’m in way over my head and I can’t do anything about it. Betty is wrapped up in all of this and I’m powerless to protect her.

A rough fist yanks me up by the hair and into a seated position. I try to put the wall back up and hide my emotions, keep myself under control.

“Look at you,” Venom shakes his head in disgust, spitting in my face. I flinch, but take it without any snide comeback. “You’re _pathetic_. Your mommy must have been so ashamed of you, she just up and left. She never told you why she did it, did she?” I don’t answer, refusing to meet my captor’s eyes. Venom is suddenly in front of me, brandishing a nasty knife and holding it against my cheek. “Did she?” 

“Shut up.”

Venom slices my cheek angrily, holding my jaw with the other hand. His eyes are wide, holding a dark, dangerous glint within them. “ _Answer me_ , Jughead! Did she ever tell you why?”

“No!” I spit back, anger and fear boiling within me.

“She took your little sister, but left you behind with your bastard of a father. I thought it must have been about money, but now that I see how soft you are, it all makes sense. She didn’t want you. She _never_ loved you, Jughead. You were just a disappointment – another mouth to feed. You’re so _weak_ , just like your father. You’ll grow up to be just like him, too, a drunk, good for nothing murderer –“

I throw myself on top of Venom, knocking him to the ground. My fist collides with his jaw, then his chest, and for a brief moment I have a shred of hope. Hope that I can fight this, make it out alive.

A sharp punch to the throat takes me down instantly, curling into myself as Venom shoves me off. The world swims around me, disorienting. He drags me back over to the pipe, grabbing the chain. I lay still, vision cloudy as I struggle to breathe. I feel the chain being wrapped around my legs several times, binding them below the knees, and being secured in place with the padlock once again.

Then everyone leaves without another word, shooting me looks as they exit the room. The door slams, and I’m left all alone, lying on the cold floor. All I can do is reach over and grab my fallen sweater, pulling it on slowly over my aching back. I don’t even have the energy to cry or move to a more comfortable position, instead falling into a restless sleep.


	10. Betty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know…I’m not even going to list off my excuses for updating so late. You get the drill.

The call snaps off, and silence fills the room.

For the first time, I’m too shocked to cry. It feels as though an internal switch has flipped, and my head is just left _buzzing_.

Kevin has begun to pace anxiously, swearing to himself under his breath. I stare at him for a moment, unsure if I should do something to comfort him, unsure if I could even make my feet move. I can’t seem to focus on a coherent thought, as Jughead’s shouts and cries of pain overcome them all. 

A broken, ragged breath comes from my side, and I turn to see FP turned away in his cell, back shaking slightly.

“This isn’t your fault, Mr. Jones,” I offer lightly, but my words sound hollow and I’m not even sure that I believe them.

“That’s a damn lie and we all know it,” he snaps back, aggressively wiping the tears from his face. He straightens his shoulders before turning to look at me, trying to hide his emotions. It’s too similar to Jughead, and that thought has my fists clenching at my sides. 

“You’re right,” I reply hotly, fear and anger melding and rising within me. “All of this is your fault. You don’t deserve Jughead, you know that? He told me some of the things you used to say to him, how you hit him after his mom left you – as if it was _his_ fault. You put him in danger just because of your stupid gang, and now he’s being _tortured_ and someone tried to _shoot_ Archie, all while you’re safe here –“

“You call this being _safe_?” FP gestures around the cell. “It’s not my fault you wouldn’t stop playing detective and brought my boy down with you!”

“Oh, so _I_ brought him down? Why? Because I was one of the first people to treat him with human decency? Because I stayed with him even though everyone else walked out? Because I actually took the time to get to know him instead of getting drunk off my ass –“

“You have some nerve talking to me like that, Cooper!” FP bellows, pointing his finger at me furiously through the bars. “You don’t know me, my life, or my son!”

“I know him better than you ever have!” I spit back, fists clenching so hard I can feel pinpricks of blood spreading on my palms.

“Stop it!” Kevin shouts, grabbing me by the shoulder and spinning me around to face him. “Both of you, please, stop it!”

The argument halts, instead replaced by the sound of my beating heart and FP’s loud breathing. Kevin looks to both of us warily, and it’s then that I realize he’s crying.

“Fighting will get us nowhere,” he pleads, looking between the two of us. “I have to tell my dad what’s going on –“

“No!” FP and I protest in unison.

“He can help!” Kevin cries, looking to me imploringly. “The police will find Jughead. That’s their job! There’s no way we can do it without them.”

“Kevin, you saw what they did to Jughead,” I shake my head, grabbing his arm. The hate has rolled off, replaced again by the crippling fear. “They’ll _kill_ him – and _you_ – and _me_ , if they find out you told your dad. We can’t risk it.”

“We can’t do this alone, Betty,” Kevin presses, shaking his head.

“Not alone,” FP interjects. “The Serpents will help you.”

Kevin throws his hands up in exasperation. “Oh great, so the gang of criminals will help us catch the gang of criminals! Wonderful!”

“Hey!” The Serpent King barks, pointing an accusatory finger through the bars. “Don’t compare the Serpents with the Scorpions. We don’t kidnap and torture kids!” 

I can’t help but laugh at that, rounding on FP. “Says the man who knowingly aided and abetted the murder of Jason Blossom!”

“I had no idea it was going to end like that!”

“Only psychopaths and murderers hire a gang to kidnap their son and tie him to a chair in a closet!”

“Yeah, well, I may not be the parent of the year, but I’ve got a son to take care of. Parents do messed up shit to take care of their kids.”

“You only put him in more danger!” I protest, eyes narrowing at the bedraggled man through the bars. “And no, I wouldn’t think so. Parents have to be sober to qualify.”

FP slams his palm against the bars, obviously losing his cool. “I know I’ve been a shitty father, but I did what I had to in order to provide my son with food and a place to sleep, which is more than my old man ever did for me!”

“He only recently moved back in with you!” I counter heatedly. “Before then he lived in the Drive-In, then in a _closet_ at the school, until finally Archie took him in. You haven’t given him anything except trust issues and a target on his back!”

“Jughead could very well be _dying_ right now, and you two won’t stop fighting!” Kevin shouts, turning me back around. “Can we just concentrate on figuring out a plan?”

“We’ll go to the Serpents,” I sigh, mulling it over. “I don’t like it, but they’re our best bet right now.” FP nods in agreement, but stops when I point a sharp finger his way. “On one condition.”

“What?”

“You confess to the murder of Jason Blossom.”

“ _I didn’t do it_!” FP protests, straightening in his cell. “There’s video evidence, you saw it yourself! And more importantly, _Sheriff Keller_ has already seen it!”

“You heard what Venom said,” I hiss, remembering the name Jughead had given to the gang leader. “If you want Jughead safe, you’ll confess. Say you tampered with the tape in case it fell into the wrong hands. I don’t care! Just pull your weight for once!”

I can see FP reeling his rage in, forcing his pride down. I swear sometimes he and Jughead seem like the same person. “Fine!” He agrees, resentment clear in his voice. “But you and Kevin will have to go to the Whyte Wyrm on the Southside, get some Serpents to help you figure out more about this Scorpion gang. If you can handle it.”

“I can,” I reply darkly, leaving the room without another word. Kevin rushes out after me, stopping me with a tentative hand on my shoulder.

“Betty, are you sure about this?”

“What other choice do we have, Kev?” I whisper back. “I’m not going to risk Jughead’s life by bringing your dad into this.”

“Fine,” he agrees, still reluctant.

* * *

We arrive in front of the Whyte Wyrm, having taken the public bus to the edge of the Northside and walking from there. The building is run down, paint peeling off the exterior. A large green snake is emblazoned on the side, marking the gang’s territory. My heart thuds anxiously in my chest, but I force my legs forward, a pep talk running through my mind to keep me going.

Kevin and I reach the door leading into the old bar, looking to each other quickly before I finally turn the door handle and make my way into the building.

The place smells of cigarettes and men, my nose wrinkling automatically. There’s a stage further into the giant room, with two poles fastened from into it down from the ceiling. The sight unnerves me a bit, so I take in the rest of the room, peering through smoke clouds at the gang members inside.

“Hey!” A loud voice shouts, as a big guy with long hair and a beaten Serpent jacket storms over to us. He grabs Kevin harshly by the arm, looking between us. “What the hell are you two doing in here? This is a _Serpent_ only zone, we’re not open to visitors!”

“FP Jones sent us,” I counter quickly, doing my best to hide any intimidation.

“Yeah, nice try, kid,” the man retorts, unimpressed. “FP Jones is in prison.”

“Yes, we know,” Kevin interjects impatiently. “We were just there talking to him –“ 

“Wait a minute,” the Serpent cuts Kevin off, shaking him roughly. “You’re the Sheriff’s kid – what the hell are you doing here, boy?”

“We told you!” I reenter the conversation, chest constricting nervously. “FP Jones sent us. I’m Betty Cooper –“ The man makes a sound of disgust, dragging Kevin with him towards the door. I rush after them quickly, trying to regain control of the situation. “I’m dating FP’s son, Jughead! He’s been kidnapped by a gang called the Scorpions!”

The man stops, still holding onto Kevin’s arm. “Wait, I recognize you,” he responds, squinting at me. “We interrupted you and the Jones boy from your little –“

“Yes,” I cut in, embarrassment staining my cheeks. “After you left we got in a fight and Jughead stormed out. A gang jumped him outside, and now they’ve been sending me videos and torturing Jug until FP confesses to murdering Jason Blossom, turning in all the Serpents who helped.”

“Shit,” The man lets go of Kevin, bringing a hand up to his beard.

“We need your help. FP said you’d be able to investigate the Scorpions for us.”

“Yeah, I could do that,” the man narrows his eyes, tone dangerously serious. “But you gotta promise me something first.” 

“What?” 

“You tell FP to hold his tongue on those names. I don’t care what he says about himself, but he’s not gonna throw us under the bus while we’re out here busting our ass for his kid.”

“But –“ Kevin begins to protest.

“Deal,” I respond evenly, looking up at the tall man before me. “Just get Jughead out safely.”


	11. Jughead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I graduate college in a week!! Isn't that crazy?? Also I haven't updated sooner because college.

“Hey!” I shout again, trying to get someone’s attention. “Hey _asshole_! I know you’re behind that door and you can hear me!”

Finally, after ten minutes of me yelling, the door opens to reveal a very agitated Cruncher. He slams the door closed behind him, arms crossed over his chest. I look up at him from my spot on the floor, unable to stand with my legs chained.

“There better be a damn good reason for you calling me in here, boy,” He growls, glaring at me with unfiltered hatred.

Admitting to it is harder now that Cruncher is actually in here, but pride be damned, I don’t have much of a choice. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

The man’s eyes narrow at that, and he shrugs casually. “Then go.”

My heart sinks, and my eyes flutter closed briefly before meeting Cruncher’s again. “Do you have no human decency?” I scoff incredulously, trying to keep my anger in check.

“What, you need help?” He sneers back, coming closer. “Can’t go by yourself without your girl helping you?” I take in a deep breath, refusing to take the bait this time. Cruncher gives me a knowing smirk, stopping to tower above me. “Betty, right? She’s a pretty one. I’ve always liked blondes. And I’ve been watching you two walk to school every morning, eat lunch together in the courtyard, get milkshakes at that little diner I visited the other day. She always gets vanilla –“

“I get it!” I snap, unable to keep quiet any longer. “Just shut up and leave me alone.”

“Not so fast,” Cruncher chuckles, pulling me up by the collar so I’m standing precariously with his help. “You called me in here for a reason. What was that again?”

“Go screw yourself.”

My back collides with the wall, feet barely touching the ground and Cruncher’s meaty hand closing around my throat. My vision goes black around the edges almost instantly, and it’s all I can do to start punching the man before me in desperation. In a faraway part of my brain a snide remark forms about how they need to find new scare-tactics that don’t involve choking. But I can’t breathe enough to say anything, and as Cruncher continues to squeeze my throat I fear that this might be more than a simple scare tactic. My lips try to form a plea for him to let go, but there’s no _air_ -

My gaze lazily drifts over Cruncher’s shoulder in time to see the door slam open to reveal Venom, who quickly storms over. The grip on my neck loosens, and my head flops down onto my shoulder, shuddering breaths raking through my body. I would have fallen on my face if Cruncher weren’t still holding me up.

“You moron!” Venom bellows at Cruncher, face livid. “I come here for the kid and find the door unguarded, only for you to be in here trying to kill him! What would I have told the boss if you had killed the brat, huh? She wants him alive, or we’re _done for_!”

“I was teaching him a lesson!” Cruncher growls back, pressing his palm harshly against my chest. I sag a bit against the wall, body fighting not to shut down. “I wasn’t going to let him die!”

“Right,” Venom rumbles, setting his jaw and obviously forcing himself to remain calm. “Well, she’s here and ready to see him, so hurry up and unchain him.”

I hold still, expecting Cruncher to start doing as he was told. Honestly, I don’t have it in me to fight back anymore, throat burning. Before letting me go, he lands a solid punch to my lower stomach, halting all other thought. Instantly my body bends over double and I fall to the ground, unable to stop myself. I cry out, eyes clenched shut as I hold my stomach instinctively. I pull my hand away quickly upon realizing the front of my pants are now soaking wet, the warm patch rapidly spreading down my legs.

“Shit,” I mutter, looking down at myself, cheeks burning. “ _Shit_.”

“Do you need help with that, too?” Cruncher jeers, unlocking the chains wrapped too-tightly around my legs. I avoid his taunting gaze, keeping my eyes on the floor. The situation is bad enough without the embarrassing knowledge that he did it on purpose. 

“Cruncher!” Venom snaps in warning. “That’s enough! Go join the lookout. I’ll deal with you later.”

“Yes _, sir_ ,” Cruncher responds stiffly, leaving the room without another word.

Venom grabs my arm tightly, hauling me up to my feet as he strides to the door. “Move,” he orders gruffly, wrinkling his nose at me. “God, you smell awful.” I stumble after him, still trying to regain proper blood flow back into my legs.

“Doesn’t it bother you that your henchmen don’t respect you?” I ask in an almost casual tone, secretly glancing around the hallway in search of a way out. 

“Doesn’t it bother you that you’re powerless and just pissed yourself?” Venom growls back, jerking me down another hallway. 

“I was right earlier when I said that you’re not smart enough to orchestrate this on your own,” I notice a stairwell on my right, leading up somewhere. We go down another hall and I just hope I can retrace our steps correctly if given the chance. “You said your _boss_ needs me alive, and you sounded pretty afraid of her. So this _she_ hired the leader of the Scorpions to kidnap FP Jones’ kid; but what she didn’t know is that you’re incapable of keeping your men in line –“

Venom forces us to a stop, aggressively grabbing my jaw and bringing his face inches from mine. “You’re right about one thing – I _do_ need you alive. For now. But when the job’s done, kid, it will be my pleasure to shut you up for good. You’ll see just how much control I have then. But for now, it’s time for you to meet your gracious host.”

With that I’m shoved into what appears to be an office. It’s the nicest room I’ve seen here so far, with wooden chairs facing a neat desk. I stop dead in my tracks when I see the figure sitting behind the desk, dressed in expensive red velvet and black lace.

“Mrs. Blossom?” I ask in shock, mouth a little agape as I take in the woman before me.

A light smirk creeps onto her face as she raises her eyebrows. “Have a seat, Mr. Jones.”

“It’s Jughead,” I correct, mind whirring.

“Ah yes, _Jughead_. An unfortunate title,” Penelope sneers with false sympathy. “Do sit down.”

“I’d rather stand, thanks,” I reply coldly, unwilling to give into the strange woman.

“I wasn’t asking,” she smiles, icy gaze unwavering.

Venom gives my back a sharp jab, driving me forward, palms clammy as I obediently sit in one of the chairs. My back is stiff, whole body on high alert in case I get the chance to make a run for it.

Mrs. Blossom pauses before speaking again, looking down at me in disgust. “He smells like urine.”

“Why am I here?” I demand, avoiding the uncomfortable comment. “I didn’t think you even knew who I was, and yet you took the time to have me kidnapped. _Why_?” 

“I suggest you watch what tone you take with me, _child_ ,” Penelope warns snidely, straightening in her seat.

The idea makes me scoff. “Sorry, I only watch my tone with people I respect. And seeing as all you and your family do is destroy everything around you, I gotta say that the respect is pretty low.”

Penelope rises from her chair, slowly walking around the desk until she is in front of me, leaning leisurely against the oak ridge. I glare up at her, a combination of pissed off and exhausted.

I’m not an idiot – I know that I’m no match for Venom or the other Scorpions guarding the room – but I’ll be damned if I’ll ever cower before Penelope Blossom. I may be physically pummeled, but I’ve still got my wit and sarcasm.

“I should have known that the child of FP Jones would be just as insolent as their father,” Mrs. Blossom picked a speck of fuzz off her shoulder, as if this were a simple conversation about the weather. “Tell me, _Forsythe_ ,” she began slowly, seemingly disliking the name almost as much as I do. “Do you know why you’re here?” 

The question makes me bristle, annoyance clear in my voice. “ _No_ , that’s why I’ve been _asking_ the past several days,” I snap, rolling my eyes at the woman before me.

“Watch it,” Venom growls out a warning from my right, but I don’t even glance at him.

“I know you want my dad to confess to killing your son, even though we all know your _husband_ did that. So I’m…what? Blackmail?”

Penelope’s eyes narrow at the mention of her husband, and she moves forward slowly, resting a hand on each arm of my chair, closing me in. I don’t move, locking eyes with her in a challenge. 

“We warned your father that if he didn’t play his part, that his son would pay for it. He failed to keep his end of the bargain.” 

My eyes widen at the new information. I had no idea _why_ Dad had gone through with the whole thing, honestly just assuming he had ‘gotten an offer he couldn’t refuse’ like he had told me countless times about drug trades, and then gotten in way over his head. The thought makes a pinprick of guilt rise in my chest, now. I would not have guessed that I had anything to do with it. 

“Okay, but,” I stammer out, eyebrows knitting together as I look up at the vulture leaning over me. “He _kept_ his side of the agreement. It’s not his fault that the truth came out!”

“No,” Penelope agrees, resting a cold finger under my chin to pull my face up. The falsely sweet action makes me cringe. “But it is _your_ fault. You pocked your nose where it didn’t belong, and now _both_ of you have to pay for it.”

“I thought adults were supposed to be smart,” I sneer, knocking her hand away in irritation. “Even if he pleads guilty and turns in all the Serpents involved, it wouldn’t matter! The police have all seen the video.”

The woman grabs a fistful of my hair, tilting my head back painfully. “I don’t care how he does it,” she whispers dangerously, tightening her grip and making me wince. “But if he wants you returned in one piece, he’ll find a way.” 

“Why does it matter?” I hiss, eyes boring into hers as I raise an unsympathetic eyebrow. “Clifford Blossom is _dead_!” 

Before I can even register it a sharp knife is resting against my cheek, the tip pointed towards my left eye. I suck in a breath, not daring to move as Penelope presses the blade down by a fraction, pricking the skin and releasing a few drops of blood, which roll steadily down my face.

“My husband was not a good man,” Mrs. Blossom seethes, her face livid. “He never cared about his wife or his children. I was just a means to an end for him; Jason and Cheryl were there to carry on the Blossom legacy. So when I find out that he murdered _my_ son?” She applies more pressure to the blade, and I sink back further in the chair to try to escape it, swallowing past a thick lump in my throat, eyes wide as I listen to the crazed woman. “Well. We did what we had to do to cover it up, of course. And then _you_ got in the way –“ the knife moves to my throat, and I again try to pull away from it, pressing myself into the corner of the chair. “Now everybody knows what kind of man Clifford was. He took my son and by doing so, tarnished the Blossom name. Now I’m left to pick up the pieces and rebuild my life, and I don’t care how many people I have to take down to do it.”


End file.
